Incrediby Uke HotStreak
by Twitter Chan and Psycho Chan
Summary: After an awkward meeting with The Joker, HotStreak’s person goes through some drastic changes. Now he must seek help from Gear and Static to change his body back while fighting his maturity, which he seems very persistent in.
1. shrug Oh Well

Summary: After an awkward meeting with The Joker, HotStreak's person goes through some drastic changes. Now he must seek help from Gear and Static to change his body back while fighting his maturity, which he seems very persistent in. Even in a different body with uke traits, the boy falls in love. But can a criminal with a nasty past and a hero fall in love?

Psycho Chan's Note: Hello! I am in such a good mood right now! I love getting reviews…unless they point out my grammar faults. I suck at writing…I told you people this already…I may not be a man, but I don't like my faults shoved in my face. It's sad really, but I barely managed to graduate high school, had to stay back a year so as far as I'm concerned…I'm doin' pretty damn good. Wow, I feel great again. Thanks for the reviews anyway. I did learn from them…even if they pissed me off and made me feel inferior momentarily…Seto I'm just gonna shut up.

Dedication: We only came up with this story because someone contacted Twitter Chan and we just felt amazing that someone wanted a story from us. Thank you! I Don't have your name but by the title you'll know it's you…Twitter Chan has yet to tell me and I wanted to start this up…so…when I get your name I'll add it to a different chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or it's characters…I still don't own a cat either…

Incredibly Uke HotStreak

Chapter One: *shrug* Oh Well

Cranky. That was Francis's mood this morning. Cranky as hell. He had woken up to some song birds that he could have sworn to god he burned the other morning. Guess the little rats don't learn. Now the red head wonders the back street of Dakota. Avoiding the public today because, well, he's pretty damn cranky.

"Fuckin' birds…can't keep outta my space. Can't chirp when I'm not there. No. they gotta do it in the fuckin' mornin' when I'm fuckin' tryin' to sleep…" Running his large hand through his hair, the man sighs in an attempt to relax. "Too early for this shit…"

HotStreak caught the patter of footsteps somewhere up ahead, which were closer than he originally thought. A moment of panic spread through him when he saw a man in an outdated purple suit, white face paint and green hair.

"Joker…"

Hearing his title, the other man turns around. "HotShot my boy," The man was loud as ever, wearing that fake smile of his. "It's good to see a familiar face again." The Joker faces the man. "Let's skip the chatter and go right to business." Clapping his hands together and sanding them together, the green haired 'adult' walks over to the teen.

"What kind of business? I ain't in the mood to chase after Static and I ain't gittin' beat by the bat again." Francis growls. This man was like Shiv, an absolute lunatic. Though the Joker was worse. He had that…clown thing going on.

"No no no." The Joker opens his coat, pulling out a small balloon with a grin on it. "I've just made a new tonic. A creation all my own, and I wish to try it out."

Thinking for a second, HotStreak decides to play it safe, not wanting to end up like Ferret had when he had foolishly turned this man down. "What's it do, exactly?"

That grin manages to get wider. "I'm not quite sure myself, which is why I want you're help."

"What am I suppose to do?"

"Why it's simple really Flame Head," The Joker cackles, tossing the green balloon at the teen. "Catch."

Deciding it best to listen, Francis makes a swing for the water balloon in the air. The thin balloon burst upon contact, the contents clouding into a fog around the red head. "Hey-What is this!?" The younger man tries to make a run for it, but is forced to catch his falling cargo jeans as he does so. Once the greenish grey haze fades into the air, The Joker walks around the young man, examining him.

Francis looks down at himself, wondering why he had to look up to see the strange man's face.

"What the fuck did you do to me!?"

"Interesting…seems…you've…shrunk." The off man states, stepping back. "I could use this…"

"Hey!" HotStreak attempts to make a fire ball, but in releasing his jeans, the beige material falls, pooling around his ankles. Quickly, the boy reaches for them, pulling them back over his small waist. "What did you do to me!? Change me back Joker!"

"Why would I want to do that? I make a cure, the drippy bat will just steal it away like he always manages to do…heh heh…a mini bat…now that's new's worthy."

"Hey! What about me!?" HotStreak was beyond pissed, but angering the Joker was a really bad idea.

"What about you?"

"Change me back! Now! Before I burn you to a purple crisp!"

"Now now, you never know, it may ware off." The man puts his hands behind his back, causing the red head to think twice about the threat.

"And what if it don't?"

The Joker thought about it for a moment, then shrugs. "Oh well." And with that, the man from Gotham City walks down the ally again, for the destination of who knows what, leaving a miniature HotStreak holding his clothes.

Did I mention that this boy is cranky as fuck?

____________________________________________________________________

Our Theory: Twitter Chan and I have this theory see…we think…that…somehow in some way, Joker and Shiv are related. Not sure how but there is that possibility. Don't deny it, they share childish tendencies and have that maniacal laughter goin' on. That's our theory at least.


	2. Static's Hell in Many, Many Ways

Psycho Chan's Note: Someday I'm gonna make Twitter Chan type instead of me. That girl cannot finish anything. At all! GAH! I mean…really…it's old…really old…I'm old*cries* All my friends are in high school yet! Man that sucks. Oh well, I get to watch Static Shock cuz it's on at 2pm and school lets out at 3:15. Hahahaaha! Sucks to be them.

Oh…HotStreak's kinda racy in this story too, but that get's explained later. Just to let you readers know. So…now you know…And he's outta character. But that's because he's the newfound uke…so he's gotta play the part…eventually.

Oh Yeah I Remember Note: This story was requested/suggested by StarStorm991

Thank you so much!

Chapter Two: Static's Hell in Many, Many Ways

The red head figured that he was in trouble when he shrank. Because of The Joker, Francis was smaller. He looked younger, the only thing indicating he was a teenager was the goatee he still had, which is microscopic compared to his last one. The man wondered into a clothes store, changing into clothes he liked and fit, he simply walked out of the place. Only shortly after, he crossed paths with a group of people he had wronged not too long ago.

At the moment, HotStreak hides behind a fruit stand outside of another store. Those men had recognized him and easily overpowered him, beating him senseless. The exhausted teen stays quiet, Static and Gear were only a few feet away from him and were talking to a woman with her two children, one three and the other no older than five. Francis could easily tell she was worried by the tone of her voice as she spoke to the heroes. He just listened to them talk, holding his side as blood soaked his shirt.

"So did you get a good look at the kid that they were targeting?" Gear questions having already put the crooks in custody.

"No. He ran off right before you arrived." The woman shakes her head, her long black hair following in a slow motion.

"So you have no clue where he went?"

"I honestly did not see where he went to." She looks down to her children, thankful they're alright. "But he looked real rough…"

"How bad?" Gear asks, Static by his side, looking around.

"I didn't get much of a look but one of the men had stabbed him…" The mother's eyes cloud with worry. She couldn't imagine if it were one of her kids. "He really should be brought into the hospital…"

Static sees the worry. "Don't worry ma'am. We'll find him."

_How hard can it be to find a kid with a stab wound?_

The mother nods slowly. "Alright. Be careful boys." She smiles before walking home with her children.

"You too ma'am." Gear looks to Static.

"Well, let's get started." Static sighs, scanning the area for a clue, like blood on the sidewalk.

"Yeah. How hard can it be to find a bleeding child?" Gear chuckles.

Static laughs too. "That's what I thought." Blood does catch his eye, walking over to the stand. Poking his head around, he sees a smaller boy of fire red hair crouching behind the wood. The blood was a hand print from when he set his hand down to hide. "Hot…Streak?" Static stares in shock for a moment, catching Gear's attention. Before the hero can make anymore notes, a burst of fire knocks him off his feet and flat onto his ass.

Seeing the red head take a run for it, Gear grabs a zap cap, tossing the newly improved technology at the criminal, watching the boy fall to the ground.

Static gets up to his feet, patting the fire off his black and blue trench coat. _Yup, that's HotStreak…_Both heroes walk up to the struggling teen on the ground. "Lemme go!"

Static hold in laughter, the same as Gear. "What happened to you?"

Francis was not in the mood. "Lemme outta this you faggots! NOW!"

Gear chuckles, failing to keep quiet. "No…I don't think so."

"You got smaller…" Both heroes burst out into a fit of giggles.

"I KNOW!!" It wasn't something you really could miss.

Almost calming down, Gear pulls a coil around HotStreak, the strip acting as a leash. "Almost too funny to send him to jail…"

"Almost."

"You can't send me like _this_!" HotStreak freezes, looking up.

"Yeah? Why not?" Gear inquires.

"Cuz they'll beat the shit outta me!"

"Like you do to others? It's called karma." Gear snickers. This was just too funny.

"I can't defend my powers like this even _with _my powers! You know what they'll do to me without 'em!?"

The messages reaches Static. _Well…you do hear a lot of things about what they do to scrawny guys in prison…_With a sigh, Static changes the subject. "So what happened to you?"

Managing to stand up, HotStreak grits his teeth. "That tootie fruity prick who I swear to fuckin' God is Shiv's uncle, that's what."

"The Joker?" The blonde's head perks at that.

"The Joker's in Dakota again?"

"_Apparently_…He chucked some shit at me and now I'm _scrawny_!" Francis was not taking the news of his new body too well.

"…Gear…Maybe you should fix him before we send him to jail…"

"_Please_."

"It'll…take some time…"

"How much time?"

"I donno. I'll have to study him at HQ."

"I ain't goin' to jail like this." HotStreak repeats, angry.

"Fine. Okay. We'll send you to jail after Gear fixes you. Can you cooperate until then?"

"Sure." HotStreak grins, not really adding trust to the situation.

Gear feels unsteady. "Don't blow up HQ."

"Why would I do that?" HotStreak tries that innocent tone…not working for him might I add.

Static answers. "Because you're you. You do that."

"Promise I won't burn down yer place. Just git me outta these." HotStreak growls, jerking around in the coils which he couldn't burn off. Not this time around.

"No." Gear ends the man's fight to escape by pulling on the coil, basically dragging the man to the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude. Static chuckles watching this.

_I like dealing with scrawny HotStreak better._

"LET ME OUT!"

"You know, you got louder too." Static comments, flinching at the sudden outburst.

"Shut up you faggot and let me out of this."

"You're still under arrest even though you're in our custody HotStreak." Gear struggles to pull the older man, who fights the bonds.

"You keep being difficult and we'll send you to jail the way you are now."

"Yer draggin' my ass all around town!"

"Keep up fighting and we'll take the long way to HQ."

"NO!" Gear shouts, grunting as the man fights his tugging. "We're going the shortest way possible."

Angry, HotStreak charges at Static. "Fuck you!" And Francis, in his smaller form, actually kicked the mocha skinned teen in the shin. As Static jumps in pain, Francis is tugged backwards as he is pulled back like a wild animal. At this point, he probably was. There was another jerk and the red head lost his balance, falling.

Now losing his patience, Static clenches his fists. "Maybe we should send him to jail scrawny. He can kick criminals in the shin instead."

Gear continues dragging the boy, who is unable to get to his feet. Flying was easier, but this way was a great way to humiliate the bully. "No! Unlike you, I know what happens to scrawny fuckers in jail! Just let me out of this!"

"No. You kicked me in the shin."

Green eyes narrow at the hero. "You're such a fuckin' pussy."

"Shut up. I'm used to you chucking fire balls, not kicking."

Not liking the way the teen talks at him, HotStreak spits at the hero, shortly punished by another violent jerk.

_Why am I the one receiving all the abuse?_

Both heroes mutter under their breath.

However, Francis seemed to lack that ability while angry. "Black ass queer."

"What did I do now? I can be tolerant but only for so long." Static crosses his arms, not looking at the red heat.

"You send me to jail more than that mecha bitch of yers."

Gear keeps walking, staying silent. HQ was in sight.

"How about I send you to jail now so you can be the bitch?"

"Wasn't fun then, won't be fun now." Gear stopped to let HotStreak get up. Then preceded to stepping into the gas station.

Hearing that, Static stares HotStreak in surprise. "You were one before?"

Ignoring the Question, HotStreak looks to Gear. "You gonna help me or not?"

"If you stop being difficult." Static suggests, only to get spit at once more.

_Nope._

As the blonde takes out papers and logs onto the computer, Static wipes the spit off his face. _I thinks he's worse now._

The coils are removed from HotStreak, revealing the bloody white wife beater the man wore. "Static, you should clean his cut."

There was a look of dread on the hero's face. He had taken a few classes on medical aid that Gear mad him take. And they had a few reviews online about more serious wounds. But it didn't mean that he wanted to actually do any of the stuff he learned. This just wasn't his day. But he guesses that HotStreak's day was going a little worse, so he lugged himself from his thoughts to get the first aid kit Richie made for them.

To be honest, the red head had actually forgotten he was hurt. Reminded, HotStreak covers his wound, irritated. "Alright HotStreak, remove your shirt." Static motions for the boy to remove his shirt.

"…no." HotStreak puts simply.

Gear is not in the mood to hear the red head whine as he checks over the chemicals he has in his lab. "Either you let him clean it or we'll haul your ass to the emergency room."

Hearing the threat, HotStreak's green eyes light up as he sits his small butt on the stool in front of Static. "Now, remove your shirt." Static asks again.

Noting happens as HotStreak hesitates, staring down at the ground. "But…I'm all…scrawny and pathetic…" There is a faint chuckles from the desk behind the shorter man. Angry, HotStreak chucks a fireball at Gear, who shrieks, ducking away.

Static's brown eyes narrow slightly. "He's the one who's gonna make you normal again, I'd advise you to not do that again. Now just take off your shirt so I can clean your damn cut. It's not a big deal." There is a long silence, it only being broken by the faint sound of glass bottles clacking as Gear moves around the chemicals. "Just take it off."

"Yeah…how about I do that…"

Again, nothing.

"Need BackPack Static?"

"I might at this rate."

Looking at the blood on his hand, Francis growls. "You suck Static."

"That's nice, now take off your shirt before I do it for you."

"Like hell you will."

Laughter escapes Gear by accident. "_That _didn't sound gay." The blonde had meant to say that only in his head.

Static bits his lip, shooting his partner in crime an evil glare. "_Nice_."

"Fine." HotStreak scoots on the stool so his back faces Gear. "But what you see stays between you and me." Grabbing the end of his singed shirt, Francis spitefully removes his stained shirt, revealing his smaller chest. It really was different to see this HotStreak. One that looked…_vulnerable_.

Gear peered over in slight confusion, wondering about the secrecy. He really was curious.

_What's he got that he wants to keep to himself? A weird birthmark? A third nipple? What?…I guess I could just ask V later._

Taking out some cloth, Static cleans up the blood, noticing some odd scars on the man's body. They looked like claw marks. Lots of them. There were short ones and some that ran along the entire front side of the red head. The marks criss-crossed and were layering over one another. Static couldn't help but realized that some of them looked deep, almost as if Francis was struggling against whatever made them.

Virgil couldn't help but remember how Francis never answered the question Static had asked about the possibility of him becoming a bitch in jail.

Ignoring the mysterious scars on the other body, including a few four pronged holes, Static surveys the wound. It couldn't be helped, it had to be stitched. Judging by some other few scars on HotStreak, he must have stitched himself up before. Grabbing the necessary tools needed to stitched the wound, Static preps himself before starting the new experience.

Feeling the needle poke through his skin, HotStreak winces, sucking his gut away from the pain only momentarily. There was a look in Static's eye. _Now we're even for you kicking me in the shin and spitting at me…the black queer part however…_

Still, feeling Francis shudder in pain wasn't something Virgil liked. Feeling a ping of remorse, Static continues as gently as he can. "Sorry…"

"Shove off faggot." The red head hisses through gritted teeth. Suddenly, Static didn't feel so bad. "It fuckin' hurts."

Gear chuckles again, positive that HotStreak won't move at the moment. Too bad he forgot the kid's mouth.

"Oh shut up poindexter. You're more of a queer than he is." There if venom in his voice as expected.

After a long agonizing silence, Static was finally done. "You can put your shirt on now."

The suggestion is ignored as Francis looks down at the scar to be. His misty green eyes stray to his old scars. Those nail marks that Static saw. Francis wondered if the other man saw them and what he thought about them. Or if he just didn't care. Both thoughts were sickening to him.

"?" Static waves an ungloved hand in front of Francis's face. "Earth to HotStreak."

"Huh?" HotStreak jerks his head back. "What?"

"I'm done. You can put your shirt on." Quickly, HotStreak flings the white material over his head, slapping it on to his small frame.

"Hey Static, come here." Gear calls the other hero over to the desk he had called his long ago.

"What is it?" Static leaves the red head, leaning on the counter.

"Why do we want the old HotStreak back? This one seems easier to detain and probably keep locked up."

"Yeah, he does, but we're suppose to do the right thing, and if he was a bitch in jail before, just think of what'll happen to him now."

"Send him to a lower security prison. I can rid of his powers too and we won't have a problem."

The heroes turn to face the center of their conversation, the red head spinning on the stool quickly. He is unable to listen to their conversation. And personally, he didn't really care.

"Still, there are most likely a lot more people who want to kick his ass, for good reasons might I add, and he can't defend himself like this. And not being able to defend yourself really sucks." Gear recognizes that feeling.

"Alright V…I'll help HotStreak."

"Do your genius thing."

"Yeah. Figure out what's with Mr. Six-and-a-Half over there."

Static looks at HotStreak to see him spinning faster now. "Why am I suppose to figure out what's up with him? You figure him out, he doesn't call you a black faggot."

"Okay then. Here." Gear slides his notebook over to Static. "_You _figure out his cure and _I'll _talk to him."

Not really impressed, Static shoves the notebook back. "Don't' be a smart ass, that's _my _job."

"Got that right."

As Gear took back his notebook, Static walked back over to the childish criminal. "Why are you spinnin'?"

"Bored."

_Obviously._

"So…" Static was at a loss. He never really spoke to Francis civilly. "How long you been scrawny?"

"_This _mornin'." Anger rides in HotStreak's voice. "I've been having one _hell_ of a day."

"Oh…it could be worse."

"Yeah. I could be gettin' fucked by _you_, a stringy black fucker."

It's this time Virgil reminds himself that he is helping the man out because it's the right thing to do. "You're more of an asshole when your scrawny." Static says coldly. He's about had enough.

Green eyes fog up again. "Spend a couple months in prison. Most of it in solitary confinement, then tell me how _happy _you'll be."

"Well who's fault is it you end up in prison?" Gear asks without lifting his eyes from his paper, jotting down things only he seems to be able to understand.

"_Yours _and Static's for puttin' me there." HotStreak whips around to look at the white hero.

"We wouldn't put your there if you didn't do illegal stuff." Static sighs.

"I return the vehicle eventually."

"You're missing the point here HotStreak." Static's voice is full of irritation. It was like babysitting.

"You two gonna help me or harass me?"

"Both." Gear snickers. "I'm helping, Static's harassing."

"Hey, he's harassing me too so it evens out."

"How I harassin' you?" HotStreak twirls on the stool as he swings his body to face Static.

Gear couldn't help but notice how the man talks. _'How I'? It's 'how AM I'_

"So far you've kicked me in the damn shin, burnt my coat, called me a black faggot and spit at me multiple times."

"I'm sorry." HotStreak's mood switched to a mischievous one. "I'll make it up to you."

Static quickly puts his hands up, scared. "I'm…fine…just fine." He really was afraid of the boy. _What the hell is up with you?_

A twisted grin appears on the red head's pretty face. "I insist Static." Lacing his pale fingers through the hero's darker fingers, HotStreak grasps his hands, pulling the taller boy closer. As Static fought for balance, Francis made his move, kissing the mocha skinned hero roughly.

Gear looked up, gasping at the odd sight of HotStreak kissing Static. His friend's eyes nearly widening enough to fill the gapes in the white mask. Static fights to get his hands back, shaking them violently to rid of HotStreak's unnaturally warm hands.

With a laugh, HotStreak releases the tweaking hero in his grasp. Static regains his composure quickly. "And you're calling us the faggots?"

Another chuckles escapes Francis, this one lower and more cruel. "Never said I wasn't." Static and Gear share a look before the blonde returns to his work. "You two ain't?"

"No." Static answers quickly, angry that everyone seems to think that.

"You two don't fuck at all? Seriously?"

"No…we don't." Static is not impressed with the shocked expression on the red head's face.

"But yer hot." HotStreak smirks. "I'd take ya."

"Well, I'm straight so too damn bad."

With a shrug, HotStreak blows off the new information. "I honestly thought you were gay."

_You are so wonderful for my ego HotStreak. NOT._

"Well, now you know better."

"Just for fun for me."

Static crosses his arms, not at all impressed. "I change my mind Gear. Don't change him back."

"Hey! Not my fault you won't come out." HotStreak also crosses his arms, looking away angrily.

"Not my fault I like women." Virgil could not help but notice something odd about HotStreak. _Is he…pouting?!_

"I like 'em too. But the difference is is that I've fucked more than enough of them" Francis says with a snicker.

Static screams in his head. _That's cuz you're a MAN WHORE!_

The snicker gets louder. "Cute face." Static leaves the stage of sheer irritation to being pissed off. "And it just got cuter." There is yet another awkward pause as Static gathers his calm serenity that HotStreak had blew to smithereens. Francis takes the initiative to brake the silence. "You'd top Gear."

There is a sharp snap of pencil lead braking on paper over by Gear, who's blue eyes have widened. "H-huh?" Neither heroes were very impressed.

"…O…kaaaay…" Static ignores the outburst, running his hand through his dark dreads.

"I'd top you both if I had my ol' body back." HotStreak snickers.

"I'm serious Gear, don't change him back." There is an awkward snicker from Gear from his friend's change of opinion.

Small shoulders shrug as HotStreak speaks. "Meh. I wouldn't do a black guy anyway." Virgil keeps his comments to himself, almost believing that Francis beat him up because he was African American. "And I sure as hell won't let one fuck me either."

With a growl, Static walks over to the beat up couch in an attempt to get as far away from the little devil as possible. Knowing Francis, he probably is Satan. Seeing the attempt to escape, the red head wonders over to the couch. He didn't say anything. He just stared at the hero. Really looking at him.

Static felt agitated and uncomfortable. "What?"

"Nothin'" is spoken quickly but fully voiced with distraction. _Fer a nigger…you're actually good lookin'…Really kinda cute actually…_

Looking away, Static snorts. "Go back to your stool."

"_My_ stool?"

Gear looks up. _His stool? That's my stool._ Richie sits on the tall seat because the counters of the gas station were higher than that of a desk. At the moment, he was hunched over the counter while scribbling formula ideas for the cure.

"It's my stool now?"

"It is when I'm around."

With a grin, HotStreak moves forward, onto the lap of the hero. "Then I'll make _you _my stool."

Blushing wildly from the sudden movement, Static shoves the smaller body off of him onto the floor. "Get away from me. I have a thing against racist people."

HotStreak crawls back onto the dark blue sofa, sitting somewhat innocently. You just couldn't blame that man for any of his faults when he looked so damn adorable. "I'm not racist." There is an abrupt choking sound from across the room as Gear begins to cough.

Static grit his teeth at this man's arrogance. "Yes, you are."

"Am not."

The mocha skinned teen stood up, refusing to look at the other man. "You are." He wondered over to Gear, who was able to breath now. Having the couch to himself, HotStreak stretches himself across the sofa, laying down in comfort.

"Yes you are Francis. You're horrible." Gear muttered out loud.

Another sadness seemed to flood Francis as he thinks. "Well…" There was a short pause that gained the attention of the heroes. "I've had bad experiences with black people." The smaller man lightly put his fingertips over his stained shirt, lightly tracing the claw marks he know too well. "None of 'em really ever treated me right…so why the fuck should I treat them right?" Quickly, the red head rolls away from the other two men, facing the back of the couch.

A feeling of pity flooded Virgil. "You still can't base an entire race on a small portion of people." There isn't an verbal response from the younger looking red head. HotStreak just curled into a small ball. Hating the fact that his bully was being all cute like, Static walks over to the couch once more, sitting in the space next to Francis. "Look, I'm sorry. Nobody should be mistreated like that."

Again, Static watches the rebel feel the scars on his body. His green eyes losing their color as he does so. "Some do…"

Virgil sighs. That was true in his mind. "…maybe some do…but most people don't."

Faded green eyes close gently. "Guess I'm one of 'em."

_That depends. Were you always this way or did you end up this way after you were mistreated?_

Realizing that the red head had fallen asleep, Static sighs once again in relief and frustration.

"Seems whatever The Joker put in that stuff HotStreak breathed in changes the infected person's body _and _personality…this'll take longer to even out." Gear announces, looking from his paper to his partner in crime fighting.

"So…how long until you can fix him?"

"Well, I can change his body back tomorrow however…" There was a catch tone.

"However…?"

"I'm not sure about his state of mind. It's changed dramatically. I'm not sure if it's just the testosterone change or what but I'll need to wait and study him."

"Oh…so what do we do until then?"

"Until I figure it out, he should stay here. I gotta watch and see if there's a pattern or relevance to his new personality and his previous one."

"Okay. You do that."

"You'll help me too. Keep him under control."

_Damnit…I was hoping to get out of it._

"'Kay."

Gear decides to ask about his curiosity now. "So what was that all about anyway?"

"Well…" Static remembers the time he had told Richie about AJ the Backstreet Boy. How he let out the secret about him being in Dakota. How Daisy and Frieda got the information out of him. "You gonna force me to tell you with a double chili cheeseburger with grilled onions?" Yeah, Virgil was still sore about that.

"_Ha ha ha_. No. I was just wondering."

"How much does not knowing bother you?" The darker hero chuckles.

"It seemed to come up multiple times. Seems important."

"You're smart, guess."

_I wanna see what you come up with._

Oh did Richie hate it when Virgil did this. "This isn't very funny V." He can so see the amusement in his friend's face. "I have no clue. All I got is he hates African Americans cuz he had a bad experience with them, probably a gang. That's it."

"He's got scars all over and he's a bitch in jail. Guess again."

"I figured out he was raped. But I figured he pissed them off so-wait, scars?"

"Yup." Static gets to his feet, walking over to his friend, leaving HotStreak sleeping on the couch. "And I think he was stabbed with a fork at one point." Static adds as he remembers seeing multiple scars looking like fork prongs.

"Oh." Gear returns to his writing. "Well, what goes around comes around" is said with a shrug. "Shouldn't pity him. He does bad things to place himself in jail. He can avoid jail easily."

"Rape doesn't seem like something to justify stealing or joy riding."

"I've read his police report. He's been tried for rape himself. He's also beaten down dozens of people, most of which were of African background or police officers. I know rape doesn't justify that…but still…" The writing and scribbling picks up speed as another idea came to mind.

"I get what you mean but still…Rape isn't justified by more rape."

"I donno…really kind of a hard topic to be honest."

"Yeah…"

"There isn't really much of an answer actually. The women he raped, I can guarantee that you that they'll be justified that their rapist now shares their pain." Gear sighs.

"Yeah…the human race sucks."

"Society sucks."

"Yes." Virgil nods in agreement. "Yes it does."


	3. Unwakable Nightmare

Psycho Chan's Note:There will be many many chapters for me to torture myself with but it's so worth it. Sense it's me thinking of ideas for this plot, there will be drama. I can't live without it. And I'll take this chance to say that most of this story later will be slash. Pure smut. With plot. How often to you get to type up a story with HotStreak as the adorable uke?

Exactly.

Chapter Three: Unwakable Nightmare

The search for HotStreak's cure was agonizing for Richie. He really didn't want to help the man, but it was the right thing to do. And the quicker he found the cure, the sooner they could send Francis to jail. Walking out of an ally, Gear sighs. "Man…having to change in the ally so Francis doesn't figure us out…that sucks." Static silently agrees. "We have to work around him so I can find a cure for someone who's worse now than before…course then the only damage he did before was physical. Now its' emotional." The blonde complains.

"Yeah…you don't have to remind me."

"Still easier to send him to jail."

"Yeah but we're the heroes and technically HotStreak is the victim here."

"You tell me that when he calls you gay or black."

"Hey, I never said we weren't victims too." Static defends himself.

"You have an off sense of good and bad for justice." Static shrugs as Gear opens the door. "Just keep him occupied."

The heroes walk in the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude, relieved that it still stood. They saw HotStreak still asleep on the couch, still in the ball he fell asleep in.

Gear heads for his station right away. _That's too adorable for him._

Static makes his own seat in a chair with wheels. _He's not suppose to act adorable…_

"He acts like an adorable brat." Richie comments, listening to the red head snore.

"Yes. Yes he does…a bad immature brat." Wheeling himself over to the freezer, Virgil digs into the cold box, pulling out an orange soda. "Hey, you drank all my soda. There's only one orange soda left." Static complains.

"Huh?" Gear look over to see his friend accusing him of something. "I've been busy…" A stack of orange cans catch his attention. By the soda, there was a pyramid of orange soda. Guess he woke up after all.

Static sees it too. "Stupid scrawny HotStreak." Static mutters as he opens the can.

HotStreak suddenly pokes his head up. "I ain't scrawny." The red head sleepily sits up, seeing the last can. "Hey, cen I have that?"

Cradling the soda can, Static keeps away from HotStreak. "No. you drank the rest of them."

"Only a few. It's my favorite."

"It's my favorite too, and this is the last one."

That's when things got freaky weird. As Static tired to defend the last can, he looked into Francis's green eyes. They seemed to widen further, glistening with need. Static could have sworn to God that he saw sparkles and tears in those emerald eyes.

_N-no! Don't…you can't…that's not…you can't just….no…that's not…fair…_

Static's head hangs in defeat, handing the soda pop out for HotStreak. "Fine." He nearly pouted. "But you owe me."

"Sweet." HotStreak swipes the soda, drinking it quickly.

Gear looked at his masked partner in confusion. "Did you just submit?"

"I have weaknesses…and apparently sparkles, big eyes and almost crying are some of them…" Richie laughed. With friends like Daisy and Frieda, he wasn't surprised. "Oh shut up. At least I can't be bribed with grilled onions."

"Losers." Is heard behind them. They turn to see HotStreak set the last can on the top of the pyramid.

"Well you need our help so whose the loser now?" Static retorts quickly, crossing his arms as he sulked into the chair.

HotStreak angers. "At least I ain't a queer nigger."

"I'm not the queer one in the room. You are. And my skin color isn't exactly something I can change."

"Least I've fucked a woman."

"At least I'm not a man whore."

There is a silence as HotStreak's eyes widened.

_Take a cheap shot at my virginity…_

Defeated by memories of his past, Francis brings his feet onto the sofa, bringing his knees to his chest, hugging them.

Static stares in confusion. _Now what the hell are you doing?_

Gear measures some test samples of chemicals, alarmed when the chemicals show acidic tendencies.

Sighing, Static thinks of what to do. _Man…this is so not fair on my behalf…_He tries an apology. "Look…I'm sorry I called you a man whore…you started it."

HotStreak shoots an evil glare at the hero. "Shove it fucker."

The blonde focuses on neutralizing the acid.

Static growls at the rejection of his apology. _Why am I helping you again? Oh yeah…I have morals…damn morals…_

Static was angry, HotStreak was depressed, and Gear was _so_ fucking up the unstable acid. Static found comfort in watching Gear mess up, who's eyes light up. Gear was freaking the hell out as the beaker in this hand started to dissolve. Brown eyes look at the struggling hero, to HotStreak, who was almost crying. They traveled back to Gear, to HotStreak, then returned to Gear. _Why does he get the easy job?_

"Look…I'm sorry." HotStreak ignores him. "At least acknowledge me."

"You don't give a rat's ass about whores…I ain't gonna give a shit about black fuckers like you."

_Maybe I should rethink this…_

Static sighs, turning his attention to his struggling friend. "How's it going over there Gear?"

"Not Good!" Gear ducks behind the counter, shortly after, the chemicals he was working with burst into a cloud of a pasty gray dust.

Turning away from Gear, who always seems to blow compounds up, Static tries again. He felt bad about Francis and just couldn't turn away. "Look, your not accepting my apology, and you're being an asshole towards me. What do you expect me to do?"

HotStreak continues ignoring the hero.

"HotStreak."

"I didn't say anything!"

Getting off the ground, Gear coughs, swooshing the smoke away.

"You're all pissed off."

"He's always pissed off." Gear muses.

"I know that. But I feel I need to justify myself for some odd reason." Static explains.

"Oh fuck off." HotStreak vents.

"See, that's what I'm talking about."

"You deserve it." HotStreak keeps his angry expression.

"If I deserve it now why were you doing it before?"

"I'm an asshole, remember?" HotStreak remembers being told this by the hero. The heroes don't say a word. "Faggots." HotStreak hisses out in pure anger.

"Bitch." Gear growls, reaching his limit at the man.

Static sighs heavily. "This is working out so well." He responds with sarcasm.

"Fuckers." Static is ignored by both men.

"Asshole."

"Gear, remind me again shy I wanted us to help him?"

"How the hell should I know? Something about us being the good guys." Gear returns to his work, writing out equations for the formula that will bring HotStreak's body back to normal. He is to busy to notice that HotStreak had pressed his face to his knees and actually began to sob. It was the sniffling that got his attention. _!? Don't cry-Wait, why are you crying!?_

Static sees this too late as well. "D-don't cry. What'd I do now!?" Both teens freak out at the crying rebel.

"Don't cry. We're helping you, just don't cry…"

"C'mon…stop it. Were gonna change you back, just for the love of God don't cry." Static is freaking out more than the lighter skinned teen.

"I'm not cryin'!" Francis screams.

"Yes." Static flinches. "You are."

"NO I'M NOT!" That scream caused the smaller body to light up into a flame, singing the fabric of the couch.

"Okay, okay, you're not crying, just quit burning the couch." Calming down, the red head's fire is put out, however, the air around him remains dry and crisp.

Gear wanted Static to actually go over there and calm the man down, but he wasn't getting the clue. So he settled for something not even Virgil could miss. "Some of these chemicals are heat sensitive Static."

Getting the hint, Static walks over to HotStreak reluctantly. "Please…just stop singing the couch…"

"You act like I'm doin' it on purpose!" HotStreak jerks his body back into the couch in frustration, pulling at this red hair.

"I'm sorry…just try to calm down okay?" Static tries his best. He isn't use to dealing with unstable teenagers. Well, he was, just not _this _unstable. "Can I get you anything?"

Feeling the stare of the other man, HotStreak looks away. "Fuck off. Don't need yer pity either."

_Tough mini cookie…_Gear thinks to himself as he starts the new batch of samples to tinker with.

_I like the HotStreak that tried to kill me better…he was easier to deal with…_

"I'm just trying to help…"

"By callin' me a man whore? _Great _help you sick fuck."

"You called me a loser and took a cheap shot at my virginity. I get upset too you know."

"Least you're clean and people want you around." Francis's eyes turn that off color again as he looks down at the floorboards.

Static is shaken by the display of sorrow and pain. _I'm starting to wish you were just naturally an asshole and didn't have issues…_

"You're mean to people…it's just natural for people to not wanna be by people who are cruel to them."

"It's…not my fault…" Francis mumbles under his breath, barely loud enough for the younger man to hear him.

Sitting down next to the red head, Static searches for what to say. "I get that…but you should try to be nicer. People will treat you better if you do and they'll wanna be by you."

"No they don't…they just go easier on you." Francis remembers different tactics in jail. He always would show the other men he was boss. However, he was prone to nightmares, so he rarely slept. He'd just pass out. If he dozed off, sometimes he would cry out in his sleep, and if someone saw that, HotStreak's rep was discarded. No one was afraid of a man who cries in his sleep. If he was kinder to the men, they still abused him. They were just less rough because he didn't fight. Nothing ever worked.

"Not everyone is bad…you can't get through life all alone…"

_Not with your life anyway…_

"Why should I believe you? You called me a whore for no reason."

"Because he's helping you thought you don't deserve it." Gear states, mixing exact measurements together. Francis growls.

"Because I'm trying to help even though you're not making it easy for me to." Static rewords what Richie probably _should _have said.

"You're not makin' it easy fer me to trust you."

"Well, I'm sorry."

Gear is not having any luck with stabilizing the new acid. _God damn it, that shouldn't of happened…_

"I'll try to make it easier for you to trust me." Static sees HotStreak's face soften a bit as he sinks into the back of the couch. The only sound that could be heard were the odd squeaks escaping Gear as he was failing yet another experiment quick, fast, and in a hurry.

_Why're being all quiet?_ Static was unsettled by the thick silence.

He was thankful it was broken though it confused him. "Stop it." Francis speaks slowly as he closes his eyes.

"? Stop what?"

"Actin' like a pussy." The boy says slowly, drifting quickly to sleep.

Gear held in a snicker. _Virgil wasn't the one bawling like a baby. I mean, you were crying…_

Content by the sleeping figure, Static gazes to Gear. "Any luck over there?"

"I've found two new combinations of theoretically stable compounds that change acidity to dangerous measurements when stirred together."

"So…in other words…no."

"Pretty much." Gear starts over. "I have a few more ideas."

Time went by as Static watched Gear mix chemicals together. He didn't want to look at the red head next to him. He angered him so much. He was so irritating. So frustrating. This was only day two of helping him and Virgil was already thinking Richie was right in just sending the man to jail the way he is.

Then something warm was resting on his arm. Looking, Static sees that Francis was asleep and falling on him. Before Static could catch him, HotStreak slumped into his lap. Not wanting to be used as a pillow, the hero attempts to discreetly slide out from under HotStreak's smaller body. There was a faint groan before HotStreak actually wrapped his arms around Static's slim waist in his sleep, nuzzling the fabric of his black jeans. Static sits back down, blushing furiously at the utter cuteness being displayed. Boy was he uncomfortable here.

Gear sees the faint color change in his friend's dark cheeks. "Are…are you _blushing_?" he almost shouted.

Static grits his teeth. "I have a _face _on my _crotch_."

"It's _HotStreak's _face. Shouldn't be blushing." Richie enjoys teasing Virgil.

"Go back to melting your beakers and test tubes."

Nodding in humor, Richie moves on with the conversation. "Anyway, I face another problem here Mr. Morals."

"What now?" The torture would not end.

"Do we remove his powers? He has no need for it…we handle meta humans. Remove his powers and we don't have to deal with him anymore…"

"Yeah but he has issues. Shouldn't we be helping him with them instead of making more?"

"He wont' go to the meta human lock down. He'll have his old strength in a human security prison…it's fair…"

Virgil sighs. This shouldn't be such a hard choice. If you had asked him before this, he wouldn't be arguing against it that's for sure. "Yeah but if we get him to trust us maybe we can turn his life around or something…"

"He can turn his won life around if he takes his foot out of his mouth and think for a change."

Before Static can reply to that, the adorable face in his lap nuzzles his warmth, that being the hero's crotch. That blush brightens as Static now wears a violated look on his face. Seeing that look, the other hero bursts out laughing. "Shut it."

The other man is unable to stop his laughter. "You're blushing."

"He's _nuzzling _my _crotch_."

The laughter stops, however, the man is now in an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

When Static's eyes actually spark, Gear calms down, coughing slightly as he is now unable to really breath. "You suck Richie."

"No no." The blonde catches his breath. "_HotStreak _does."

"Not in _my _lap he doesn't." Static keeps his death glare at his friend. Hearing that, Richie is unable to contain his laughter once more as he collapses on the counter, tears filling his tightly closed eyes as he does so. Virgil is not impressed. "It's times like this that I hate you…"

"I'm not the one blushing" is gasped out from Richie's parted lips.

"You're not the one with a face on your junk either."

Wiping tears, Gear regains his posture. Agreeing with his friends, he shrugs. "At least it's a cute face."

_That's not the point._

"And he's asleep so he isn't hitting on you."

"That's one plus."

"Unless you want him too" Richie snickers through a smirk.

"No. I don't."

The snickers continue in a controlled fashion.

_I hate you Richie…really…I do…_

"It's kinda weird though…" Richie starts. "He was hitting on you yet he hates your skin color…"

"That is weird…why can't he hit on you?"

"Hey…"

"What? It'd make more sense and it'd be easier on me."

"Real funny V." Shaking his head, Gear returns to his work.

With the fiery bang baby sleeping in his lap, Static decides it best to just wait until he wakes up or until he has to leave. After some time, his brown eyes look down at the sleeping figure. HotStreak was just too adorable for his own good. No matter what he did Virgil just could not be mad at him for too long. His small body raised slowly with his shallow breathing. Though his eyes were closed, Virgil could still remember the green color. The fierceness. He also remembered how they keep clouding with pain.

That sleeping expression was just too…endearing.

Then it suddenly changed.

HotStreak's face contorts in fear and pain as he winces, moving in agitation. The man started to rock his body, jerking Static around slightly. Static watched helplessly as the red head's body soared to a hotter temperature and he actually began to sweat.

_Uh…what do…I do?_

Hesitatingly, Static places a dark hand on HotStreak's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Almost immediately Francis jerks away with an awkward groan of discomfort. It that didn't work, it was plan B. "Hey" Static shakes the smaller body gently. "Wake up."

Gear looks up in time to see HotStreak's smaller body lunge to the floor shouting "Don't touch me!" The red head falls flat on the floor with a loud thud.

"Bad dream?" Gear asks.

"Guessing so." Static hops off the couch onto the floor to make sure the red head was okay. "HotStreak!"

Startled, Francis jumps up, panting slightly. Almost confused, he wipes the sweat off his face.

"Calm down. You're okay. You were having a bad dream." Static informs the confused 'child'. He felt horrible. Virgil couldn't stomach seeing Francis Stone shooken up like this. "You…okay?" He just had to make sure.

Crawling back up onto the couch, Francis lays down in a lazy slump. "Just _peachy_." Again, he tucks himself into a ball.

"Hey Static, come here." Gear calls the other hero over.

Listening, Static gets off the floor. "What is it?"

"You know…" Gear starts. "Odd are he was dreaming of something that happened to him before…if we remove his powers instead, we can send him to a place to get help. Then I can change his body back to normal when he is more stable. Everyone is safe and Francis gets better." There is concern in his voice. He didn't like seeing the stronger man like this either.

"That sounds good…you think he'll accept help though?"

"He will if he wants his body back. Besides, they'll make him with medication and therapists and stuff like that. He's borderline on many serious personality disorders."

"Force doesn't seem to work for him." Static sighs. Francis really did need help. "Alright. But maybe we should attempt to talk to him about getting help."

"Thanks for volunteering."

"Thanks for your _support_." Virgil is not impressed as he watches Gear mix some more chemicals.

"I'm the one who has to make different antidotes and test each one for HotStre-Shit!" Gear stops his mixing, gaping up at the couch. "Where _is _he?!"

Static turns around to see that the red head wasn't anywhere to be seen. Figured he ran off when he over heard the heroes talking.

"Aw, god damnit!" Static pulls out his disc. "You mix your chemicals and I'll go find him."


End file.
